Yurenveil Arcane High always felt like a kingdom floating above lesser realms. Its halls shimmered with magic, its towers pierced the skies, and its students came from bloodlines so ancient they barely remembered their mortal roots. Royal heirs, half-gods, witches, seers, and monsters in disguise walked the polished obsidian floors. They were all children of power.
And yet, none of them were ready for the day she arrived.
The announcement was made in the central assembly hall just before the morning bell. Students gathered lazily, some still cloaked in sleep magic, others glowing with enchanted pride. The Headmistress, a tall, silver-haired mage with seven rings around her eyes, stood on the altar with a parchment none of the staff could read.
"We have a transfer," she said, her voice steady but strangely hoarse. "She has no magical sponsor. No bloodline. No entry record. But she is registered by divine permission."
Whispers began immediately. That was impossible. Divine permission? Without lineage? Even godborn students needed trials and rites to enter Yurenveil.
Then the doors opened.
She walked in, unhurried, without sound. No aura. No pressure. No magical fluctuation. She simply was—a presence that the world didn't acknowledge, yet every student felt her arrive like a shift in gravity.
She wore the standard black uniform with the silver trim. White hair flowed straight down to her hips, tied loosely with a black ribbon. Her eyes were a soft grey, almost empty, but those who stared too long said they saw… something. Something they couldn't name.
Some students chuckled, unimpressed.
One tried to scan her energy with a third-eye spell.
He vomited blood five seconds later and had to be carried out on a floating stretcher.
Still, no aura.
No one approached her. She walked to the back of the crowd and stood there, hands at her side, looking ahead like nothing around her mattered. Because it didn't.
In the crowd stood Elira Veyne—an ordinary girl by Yurenveil standards. Wind magic, decent spell control, soft voice, softer heart. Her family was known for healing magic, nothing special. But as she looked toward the pale girl in the back, something inside her heart clenched. A small, sharp pain—not fear, not anxiety. Just… awareness.
Something had changed.
Something cold had stepped into their world wearing human skin.
And it had no shadow.